Broken
by Pistolwink
Summary: Set in an AU where Zant survived. Midna/Zant, het romance, and zomg...another songfic. In my defense, it was written two years ago. Beware: it is chock full of sappy nonsense! Themes of redemption, a happy ending, all wrapped up in a K rating.


_I wanted you to know that_

_I love the way you laugh_

_I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away..._

He had always loved the mischievous music of her laughter- she was royalty, sure, but she always maintined a wicked playful side.

Now the laughter was gone from her voice and her face as he stalked towards her like a predator towards his prey; gods, what was he doing? No, no- he _had_ to do this- Midna was extremely bright; surely she would see the sense in his actions?

He had worshipped her once, like a false idol, but from afar. He never dreamed that he could even approach her and so they stayed for years, although the desire to spill his feelings to her grew ever more pressing, until that day on the balcony. He had finally snapped under the pressure of seeing his people downtrodden, and even worse, _content_ to remain in that state. That day, his true god had revealed himself to Zant as his feline howl echoed off the cold, unfeeling walls of the palace.

Still, a little voice inside him screamed at the terror on the face of the goddess-made-woman before him. Luminous red eyes begged him for mercy and the look of betrayal on her face cut him more deeply than anything.

Part of him longed to elevate her to the status she once held in his heart, to undo this ugly deed he was perpetrating. More than anything, he wanted to draw it from her, tear her pain away and see the dancing light in her laughing eyes once more, but it couldn't be. There was no way.

This was the way things had to be.

_I keep your photograph and_

_I know it serves me well_

_I wanna hold you high and steal your pain._

His face- no, _not_ his face- that mask, terrifying, cold, staring, unfeeling- had burned itself into her memory. Gone was Zant's open, almost innocent face with its perpetual keen expression and lingering curiosity. Over it, cruelly, was etched the lizardlike helm with its devouring mouth. That part of her memory ached the most, throbbing with a burning heat as if scorched by flame. He had, without a doubt, taught her a hellish lesson she would never forget.

Pain served a purpose, right? Helped one recognize dangerous situations by triggering a memory that doing (or not doing-) something could create displeasing results?

In that way, Midna supposed, Zant had taught her something, learned from the pain of his betrayal. Gone was her absolute trust in anyone, her naiveté. Her heart burned angrily in her chest at the memory of the man.

Still, some little dark corner felt sympathy, regret, forgiveness even- maybe her pain wasn't doing its job. Maybe she had deserved what she had gotten if even now she held any thought of wanting to _hold_ and _comfort_ something that had hurt her so grievously...Maybe she truly was the foolish creature Zant had accused her of being...

_Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome_

_And I don't feel right when you're gone away_

_You gone away, you don't feel me here anymore_

With Midna gone, Zant's rule was empty- gone were the _Sol_ from the twilight sky, gone was the life he had seen. If the Twili were downtrodden before, they were dead now- soulless, dark beings with no identity, no passion. His god promised him that it was just something that would take a little time to correct; surely by the time he had won back the World of Light for the Twili their spirits would lift again when they realized that they'd been given back what was rightfully theirs.

Still, it was unexpectedly _lonely_ there...No longer filled with a serene quiet but a dull, empty one.

Midna was gone. His princess, who had always treated him kindly, even in her gentle joking. His lady, whom he would have once followed to the ends of the earth. Surely she was beyond him now, long gone, no force of nature or divinity- his god included- could bring her back.

She was terrible in her anger and nothing if not hard-headed and he knew she would sooner die than consort with him in any way.

_The worst is over now_

_And we can breathe again_

_I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away_

Midna watched as the concentric glyphs ended their spinning and blinked briefly before their light was extinguished. The link between their worlds was broken; no more could evils from either world trespass into the other. Both would be better for it, even though it meant that once again there would only be that brief time at the setting of the World of Light's sun where their two planes would intersect.

A single tear left a sparkling trail down the princess' cheek as she took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air of her homeland. Turning from the now-defunct portal, she started at what- or rather who- she found in her path.

Zant.

Crumpled on the ground, on his knees, palms pressed flat to the charcoal grey ground, luminescent designs on his robe glowing faintly in the golden light. Midna felt a stab to her heart; perhaps not all was as well as she had thought only seconds ago-

She commanded he look up at her and, as she looked into his yellow eyes, that one tiny fraction of her heart that had refused to learn its lesson overwhelmed the rest like flame taking to a dry field. He looked so- _broken_- and the malice that had pervaded his aura only days ago was completely gone.

That moment, the aching in her heart eased a bit and started healing- slowly, of course, but repairing itself nonetheless. Fear still lingered but it would slowly burn away as time went on.

_There's so much left to learn_

_And no one left to fight_

_I wanna hold you high and steal your pain_

It was only then, when he accepted his fallability, accepted the fallability of his "god," that he realized where he had gone wrong.

The rectification of his earlier follies began when he had come to a realization and had symbolically snapped his neck, effectively breaking the bond between himself and _that demon_. In doing so, he had quelled the chaos within his own heart and reclaimed his life and his spirit as his own and realized how far he had wandered from the love of his people that he once held.

Now she appeared before him, an angel- of mercy, of death, or of justice?

There was no longer any turmoil within him. The gods had spoken and this was the way things were to be; this was the decision of fate. He had some concept of how much trouble and heartache he had put his princess through and wished he could take it all back and never have put her through any of it.

A palm extended, gently bumping the bottom of his chin. He looked up to Midna's red eyes, carefully reading him, staring back. Gone was the hatred, replaced now by something else- mercy? Sympathy? Understanding?

He had no idea how she realized the pain he had been through, and how much she wished she could have protected him.

He reached a hand toward her outstretched hand and its silent offer of redemption.

_Cause I'm broken when I'm open_

_And I don't feel like I am strong enough_

_Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome_

_And I don't feel right when you're gone away_

Zant's fingers wrapped around her hand, Midna beckoned him towards her, lifting him from the ground. She gently dusted his chest off, fussing over him like a vixen would her kit.

Somehow, the same man who had once taken everything away from her, gave her everything. She had been naive once as she had accused the Hylian princess of being and was all too easily taken over by hatred and a seething lust for revenge. As easily as she had written Zant off, she could've reacted the same given a different set of circumstances.

The Twili were a proud people, a tribe unaccustomed to being forced into another society's behaviors. It was what had gotten them banished to their world those generations ago and although on the surface they were calm, deep underneath remained a red-hot spark of that defiant spirit that had allowed them to survive for so long. Ganon had merely kindled the already growing ember of resentment in Zant's heart; in turn, Zant had fanned Midna's spirit into a raging flame that threatened to destroy all who stood against it. Only this time were they on opposing sides; Zant on the demon's and Midna's on the side of her people.

Although it would take her a long time to admit it, she had missed Zant's presence. He had been a fixture at the palace and although she generally overlooked him, scarcely a day passed that they had not at least exchanged greetings. No matter what else was going on, he was always there to execute orders or delegate; indeed, he was the oil that kept the Twili government's cogs running smoothly.

He had always been polite, shy, oddly formal, even when taking an authoritative role. His word, even when made of iron, was always softly spoken.

Midna had missed the gentle power that balanced her ferocity.

_Cause I'm broken when I'm open_

_And I don't feel like I am strong enough_

_Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome_

_And I don't feel right when you're gone away..._

A sense of powerlessness had haunted Zant for much of his life; even though his orders had never been challenged, he never had felt as much confidence as he had before the demon. He had never before felt the strength that could be his until that day he strode into the Hylian palace, flanked by his guard, cold metal helm closed, creating a barrier between himself and the world around him. He became the fanged beast whose visage adorned his armor; gone was the young Twili.

Somehow, though, with Ganon gone and returned to the Twilight, at the feet of the very ruler he once overthrew, being pulled up to stand, he felt more- not _power_, but strength- within him. This was the legacy his ancestors had left him. Inner strength, the resolve to do the right thing. He knew now that Midna was not going to destroy him- not today, anyway- as she would no doubt would have done so before helping him rise to his feet.

He was home and before he knew it, the arms of the shorter Twili were around him, holding him tightly, lending him her strength.

_Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome_

_And I don't feel right when you're gone..._

It had been too long. Now, even with her people watching, she didn't care- yes, in front of them, even, she pulled the former usurper king to her. Life wasn't the same without him and she didn't care. She had experienced too much, gone too far and lived more in the past months than to give up at this point. She had learned lessons about the truth of things, the reality- what was and wasn't worth fighting for. What was and wasn't right.

She had gained a new respect for the world of light and although she was happy to be back home in the soft twilight, she would miss her friends on the other side of the mirror, shattered now though it was. No, here is where she belonged, and she knew that it was where Zant belonged, too. Everyone had been changed back; her people were here and her life was here.

Everyone deserved a second chance. Zant had been given one; the Goddesses of the Light had given her one as well. There was no way that the gods and goddesses would have granted them both a second life if they were meant to spend it tangled in eternal conflict, forever doomed to bite at each other's throats like bickering dogs.

Such was the beauty of twilight. It was serene, it was beautiful; it was forgiving and ran like gentle waters through the world, breathing life into its inhabitants. Their world and each and every Twili was part of a living being and they had to support each other. That was how they had endured centuries of life; harsh though it was at first, as their gentleness and love for one another grew so did the strength of their tribe as a whole.

Midna was part of that tribe. So was Zant. He had returned home.

_You gone away, you don't feel me here anymore_

The demon's presence was gone from him, he could feel it. Yet, for some reason, there was no emptiness where it had left. The only thing he knew was the soft cries of the Twili kargaroks nesting up in the crags of the castle and the enveloping warmth of Midna's tender embrace.

Shattered were the idols, the pillars of his temple. His empire, crushed before his very eyes.

Ganon's soul, suspended in a limbo of sorts, felt any connection with Zant break at that moment. He realized that not only did he no longer have a link to the world of Twilight, but all evidence of his manifestation within the tall man was gone. The Old Magic had replaced him and something- pride? Resolve? Love, even? Had ensured he would never get back into that realm. Zant was gone from him as was all of his influence.


End file.
